Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1887-06-17
she was 9 part Of the landscape, and
worked on in silence. &4 s]3. s = ~ e.

worked On IN silence. *a*#.a r - 5s.srs..
.'Are you an artist?" said she.
. Are you painting the old chestnut
tree? Oh, you must be the gentleman
that Docia Honey WI luol1 meabout."
And then she suddenly remembered
the tangled fringe of curls, the round,
uncovered arms, and jumped up in
panic of very becoming confusion.
II am Mark Jefferys, said the artist,
composedly. eyes I am boarding at
Squire Honeywell's house. And your"
II am Roxy Stephens" said the
girl, hurriedly pulling down her calico
sleeves. eff you will just step up to
the house will give you a jar of wild
plums that l promised to Docia; that
is with an abrupt consciousness OF
her own temerity), "if you don't
mind carrying it.
And this was the manner of their
first acquaintance.
Roxy was very sorry when Mr.
Jefferys returned to the city. It
seemed as if his absence left a yawing
hiatus in her life, which had not pre-.
viously been eventful or rich in Incl.
dents. But she did not know how
more than sorry Mark Jeferys was
to part from her.
Full many foweris born to blush
unseen" he quoted to himself, after
the hackneyed style of the young man
in general when the little winged god
has him at disadvantage. ''But she
shall not blush unseen if my pictures
in this years exhibition bring their
price She shall be my wife-always
supposing that she considers me wor-
thy OF the treasure-troye of her love.
| will wear her like a flower on my
heart. I think-yes, think she likes
me q little now. | am quite sure that
if had the chance could make her
like me just a little more"
And SO now and then he ventured
to write to her, lest by any chance she
might forget that such a person ex-
listed.
Now in real life things will some
times happen as strangely as they do
in novels. And it came to pass that
in the mid April time, when the skies
above and vio}ets below are blue with
a blueness that no description can
equal, Docia Honeywell came up to
New York to buy her self a silk dress,
and asked Roxanna Stephens to &C.
company her.
81 never like to trust entirely to my
own TASTE" said Docia; "and you
have such excellent ideas Of color,
Roxy"
When the dress was duly settled up
on-one CT those delicious olives which.
like the hair OF the poets heroine, was
'Brown in the shadow, and gold in the
there was yet a good hour and a half
to spare before the train went.
"Oh, do let us go to the Academy Of
Design" said Rovy; "it can't be far.
And think it would rest my eyes to
look at some pictures"
It was q fine sunshiny, breezy after
noon, and ali the world was out Roxy
came slowly up the broad marble
steps, looking around at the giant
palms, and the caoutchouc leaves, and
the monster camellia-trees, whose
dark green foliage shone as if it had
been vanished. Beyond gloWed the
pictures, outlined in gold, full of vivid
lights and deep mysterious shadows.
A little crowd had collected before
one particular canvas. and following
IllC lSuctl LIZA puiSG vi llAiJlttil CttEt,
Docla and Roxy left the other pictures
possibly possessed OF equal merit
unsurveyed: and joined the tluttering,
perfun1ea knot OF gazers,
"The picture OF the season. she
heard some one saying in Il soft, dis
tinct tones that denote your society
oracle; "La Jolie Blanchissense'
Would you believe that that little
square of canvas has been sold for q
thousand dollars? It's q charningly
painted thing-oh, OF course--but,
after all, what is there 10 it2''
1T is the sentiment, the tonen' an
swered a wise critic VINO was penciling
down notes for al art paragraph in
the next days Sphinx. SIN this age OF
the world nobody can tell what going
to succeed and what isn't. The pub
lie pulse don't bear feeling as it used"
Little Roxy, in her plain brown
gown and the poke hat OF rough and
ready straw, with the loops Of cherry
ribbon which she herself had gown on,
stood on tlp-toe to peep over the
shoulder of the tall lad in front of
her at the picture.
"Ah, Docla!" she cried, starting
back, as she caught a glimpse of it,
with the strange sensation of one who
looks into a mirror, Ell have seen
that before"
In the foreground q crystal, clear
brook gurgled away under fringe of
luxurlant crosses; in the middle dis
tance there was the green mystery Of
chestnut shadows On the grass, and g.
young girl asleep with bare white
arms, and sun bonnet fallen down her
neck, while all open book lay on the
ground. A red-wineed black bird bal
enced itself on q bush at her right and
in the BACKGROUND a line full OF futter-
ing clothes seemed to come and 90 at
the signal OF the wind. One could al.
most hear the muru1rr Of the brook,
almost see the stir Of the tall grasses
in the yellow mist OF the noontide
heats. Is was q very simple picture,
to be sure, but it is the simple pictures
that speak to peoples hearts nova.
days.
Docia stared inrently. "It looks like
the very chestnut tree with the hol-
low heart that blew down in the euui-
noctial gale last March Have you
iCund Cne nHmDef III the catalogue!
Who painted it? An, I thought So
Mark Jeferys.'
Roxy turned around with a curious
thrill, half Of pride, half anger, in her
heart and saw a tall figure comingto-
ward them from the monster palms
that guarded the stairway beyond
Mark Jeffery's himself.
"You have seen the picture Roxy?'
he said--"'La Jolie Blanchisseuse'?
Dearest --drawing her away from the
crowd into the cool green shadow OF
the giant ferns and the caoutchouc
trees-"my fortune is made, and all